Formspring, Fangirls, and Creampuffs
by ApparitionsOfMelody
Summary: Bakura is just getting used to his new body. Ryou is trying to decide what he will do with the former King of Thieves. It's going to be a long ride, and it doesn't help that the entire thing has been breached onto the internet.
1. New Beginnings: Formspring?

Author's Note:** Hey! Taking a break from my crossover to write this one. It's heavily based off of the formspring I found for Ryou and Bakura. The link for them both is on my profile. I'm just novelizing the whole thing the way I see fit, you know? It's their canon, I just write it.**

**That being said, there will be no romance on Bakura's side. At all. He's actually pretty adamant about that...**

**I do not own YGO or their formsprings XD**

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_The Thief King, once proud and confidant, lay on the porch with his hands and knees, writhing. He felt naked before his host, the boy staring at him with a horrified look on his face._

_"Bakura... what happened to you?"_

_Bakura growled. He didn't want to explain himself to the child before him. He had been shamed. His chance for vengeance had been obliterated and he had been used like a puppet by Zorc. His sides felt like shattered ice battering around his ribs. Zorc was gone... how could Bakura himself exist? How could he be staring at Ryou right now? He should have been dead..._

_"Bakura... please, let me help you..." Ryou knelt down to the Yami, trying to grip an arm to raise up. Bakura ripped it away, another growl rising in his throat. He stared down at his own white hands... he was not in his Egyptian form. How was this all happening? He **couldn't** be in the mirror of Ryou's body... The Millennium Ring was gone..._

_"Please, Bakura! I want to help! You look horrid..."_

_"Stay away from me!" Bakura barked at his host, gasping. "What's... How is this possible...?"_

_"I don't know, Bakura. But you're here, aren't you? Please let me help you. I can take care of you. The house is always vacant, you know that. It's got plenty of bedrooms, you can certainly claim one for your own. Please, Bakura. Come home. You're unwell, and you need somewhere to rest. Even if it's for a night? You can leave tomorrow if you really want to, but you look so sick right now. Please?"_

_Bakura grunted as Ryou attempted to pull him up again, this time the Yami complying. He couldn't make it any further like this. Ryou was right, he needed at least some kind of rest. Zorc's presence was still strong in his mind, their souls still raw from the rip. Agonizingly so. Zorc was gone, though, and Bakura was still here. How? How could he be here and Zorc gone? Was it a trick the thief hadn't known about? And if Zorc was truly gone and the thief still here, then why? Why had he been spared? Bakura fell against Ryou's shoulder, exhausted. Everything in his body cried out, but his need for rest outweighed them all. _

_Just for one night..._

_

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_

Bakura turned the glass bottle round and round in his hands somberly. He had reached that point in his drinking pattern where he grew thoughtful. Irritatingly.

One night... What a lie. Bakura knew it had always been a soothing idea never to be truly attained. Where would Bakura go? Where would he possibly find a place to work or settle down in? Bakura was far too tired to wander any more any longer. He'd been doing so for three thousand years, and he was sick of it. Besides, he reminded himself constantly, why would he want to leave? Ryou provided everything for him, he would be a fool not to use this opportunity to his advantage.

"Daydreaming, are we?"

Bakura glared at Yami Marik, the blonde smiling plastically him. Bakura had not been the only darker half released and granted a body of his own. Yami Marik had been revived as well. Less stable than the other, but revived all the same, his new form taller and stronger than his other half. The younger Yami was in one of _those_ moods now. Bakura spent plenty of time with Yami Marik as of late, but the distaste of each other was barely masked by their respected tolerance.

"Go away, Marik," Bakura said, his voice ever so slightly slurred. He never bothered with the "Yami" when Marik, himself, was nowhere to be seen.

Yami Marik smirked at the order. "You're in _my_ house," he reminded the thief.

Bakura's eyes narrowed. He was right... they had come home from the bar early and gone to Marik's home, how could he have forgotten? Bakura scoffed, placing the bottle onto the table. Too much of the drink, he decided. He should have stopped himself a bottle ago. When his mind had trouble focusing, it was too much. And he never liked to be at the disadvantage with Yami Marik. While Bakura was feeling "tipsy," Yami Marik had today kept his mind clear. These were the days Yami Marik liked to play his games.

"Something troubling you, Bakura?" Yami Marik cocked his head at him, amused. "You seem distracted."

"And you care?" Bakura snapped back.

"No," Yami Marik shrugged. "It's just something to talk about. My brother and sister have taken a trip back to Egypt this week with my other half. It's horribly dull without them around."

"I would think you'd love it, Marik," Bakura returned. "No one to hold you back."

Yami Marik chuckled, a grin stretching his face. "Well, then it's no fun. No, I think I am pleased enough watching you squirm while I await their return."

Bakura stiffened at the words. "Are you challenging me, Marik?"

"Why, Bakura, why would you assume something so sinister of me? I've changed." Yami Marik leaned back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head nonchalantly. "And so have you."

"Changed? Bah, don't make me laugh. You simply have no power anymore."

"You think that would stop me, Thief? Come now, you should never underestimate me like that. If I so desired, I could kill you right now..."

"Hmph. I'd like to see you try."

"...Or I could kill your pathetic 'Landlord'."

"Be cautious, Marik. You are treading dangerous waters now."

"I'm sure he sings a beautiful scream. Have you ever heard it? That sweet, wonderful sound of innocence dying? Please, tell me how it sounds. I'm just dying to hear it."

"That's enough, Marik." Bakura stood and set a deadly pair of eyes at the blonde.

"Ah ha!" Yami Marik fingered the thief. "You _have_ changed. You really do care for that boy now, don't you?"

Bakura watched Yami Marik snicker, suddenly remembering himself. He sat back down. "He is my Landlord," Bakura finally replied coolly, "as you said. It has always been my duty to care for my host. Just because we're separated in body now does not mean our bond is still not here. I need him to survive, just as I have made him _believe_ he needs me. He is my welfare, after all."

Yami Marik waved the entire statement off, smirking as he did so. "You're even more pathetic when you rationalize. What are a few words of mine going harm him?"

Bakura's eyes stared deeper, trying to read him. "Nothing, I suppose. But with you," now it was Bakura's turn to point, "I would hope what your talk is never hollow. Just think of how very dull our conversations would be. You and I, we are not like humans. I am the immortal, you are chaos incarnate. We can never act as anything but so."

"Really? Immortal, hmm? Are you quite sure I can't make you bleed?"

Bakura stopped himself from making any new statement, keeping his face expressionless. He lowered his head. "I think this game is done."

"Game? Oh no, Bakura. I am not toying with you. Not yet, anyway. I'm just curious on your feelings. You're not any fun today. Too much to drink?"

"No, Marik. Just tired."

"Then let me end this with a single question: Have you ever tried using the internet before?"

Bakura snapped back up. That question had come out of nowhere, and with Yami Marik, it meant only that the blonde had a trick up his sleeve. Bakura had to keep his guard up. "Why do you ask?"

Yami Marik crossed his arms. "You can find many interesting things online..."

"My life is plenty complete without the FanFiction or Fan Art, thank you, Marik."

"Oh, not that." Yami Marik took a brief moment to chuckle at that. "That was very good, Bakura. I must say, we've become quite famous, haven't we?"

"I'd rather be anonymous. I am a thief, I shouldn't catch any attention."

"This is not Ancient Egypt any longer. Nothing stays anonymous. Instead of simple, flimsy word of mouth, people have cell phones and cameras. I, however, feel no need for mystery. Why hide myself when I am just so good at what I do? But that is another subject for another time. Right now, you still haven't answered my question."

Bakura heaved a sigh of impatience. "The internet is a waste of time. Ryou gave me a laptop, but I have had little use for it as of yet. One session of fanfiction reading was enough."

"But Bakura, you simply must learn. The things I've learned on the internet... I had no idea you had actually told Ryou of Kul Elna..."

Bakura froze. Impossible... How could Yami Marik know of that? Bakura tried to keep himself from showing any surprise. He asked quietly, "What makes you think I told him that?"

"Well, I would tell you, but I think it would be much more fun to _show_ you. Come, Bakura, I think it may very much interest you."

Bakura snarled. What was he walking into? Still, Bakura's curiosity had been reluctantly piqued. Cautiously, the thief obeyed, following Yami Marik into his room.

It was far too dark in here, the air thick and untidy. Bakura's own room was not very much different, but there was something sinister about this darkness. Something... waiting. The only light came from a ghostly glow from the screen.

"See for yourself, Thief."

Rolling his eyes, Bakura did as he was told.

He couldn't stop a gasp from escaping his lips at the sight before him.

The address read the site, "Formspring". Questions and answers filled the page. The background of the page held a strong image of The Change of Heart card, the profile picture, written by the page keeper's name, was of Ryou.

"This is a fake," Bakura decided, his voice shaking. It had to be...

"Really? Why don't you read the questions and the answers. They certainly _seem_ to be your host's patterns."

Yami Marik was right. His mannerisms, his word choice... his _spinelessness_. There were facts here no one but Ryou would know. It had to be Ryou. Bakura felt anger boil his blood. It w_as_ Ryou.

"Surprised? I thought you would be. Isn't it wonderful, Bakura?" The mockery was thick in Yami Marik's voice. "Every ancient secret, spilled onto a webpage for all to see."

Bakura fumed, his face turning a deep crimson at the very indignity. "I'm going home."

"Yes," Marik cackled as Bakura pushed passed. "You'll want to teach him a good lesson_,_ won't you?"

Bakura stopped, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the door. He didn't turn as Marik said, "One question asked your little host, 'Are you scared of your Yami truthfully?' The answer is honest, indeed. Now, Bakura, you must know what his screams sound like. You certainly beat him enough to hear it at least once. Oh, please, Bakura," the anticipation was thinly veiled beneath the ridicule, "you do very much need to tell me. Does it sound like music? Does he beg? Does he cry? Oh, please tell me there are tears! He must look like a fallen angel when you lay your fists to him. A beautiful, pained angel..."

"Shut up!" Bakura turned and gave Yami Marik a swift blow to the jaw. Yami Marik was not surprised, laughing maniacally as he fell back.

Yami Marik. Yami Marik and all of his trouble. Bakura would kill him this time for this. He had showed mercy far too many times, and Yami Marik had gone too far this time. This time, Bakura would end this pathetic life.

No. Bakura paused just before he moved onto the insane Yami. No, he wouldn't waste his time with this pitiful man. He wasn't even a man, truthfully. He was a pest. Neither of them deserved life. There must have been a mistake. Somewhere, there must have been a mistake...

"I..." Bakura panted, "am going home."

With that, Bakura stormed out, Yami Marik still sprawled onto the floor, cheek bleeding slightly.

The door slammed shut behind the Thief.

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Bakura pulled his jacket off as he stepped in, dropping it carelessly on the floor. He was tired and already getting a headache from the consumed alcohol. He climbed up the stairs of the dark house, dark thoughts claiming his mind. He paused at Ryou's bedroom. He could see the monitor's glow emit from the door crack. Bakura clenched a fist. What other secrets were his former host posting to the general public now?

Yami Marik... Damn him. He had toyed with Bakura, filling the white haired Yami with hatred for Ryou, and then shamed him. He couldn't lay a finger on the boy now. He was sickened by the very idea tonight...

Yami Marik had called Bakura weak. Not straight out, but his words had strung together to form the greatest insult of them all. Yami Marik had called Bakura a weak coward, taking advantage of a frail child. Yami Marik had even gone so far as to compare the two Yamis. He was perfectly aware of the contempt the Thief King held for him, and he exploited that. Now Bakura was filled with confusion, and Yami Marik was laughing at him.

Yami Marik had won the game this night.

Bakura flouted the bedroom, moving past it and into his own. He flicked the light on and stared at the neat desk, never touched. The laptop sat there, unused and collecting dust. The internet... a bane Bakura could do nothing about. It was the invisible waves that choked the thief now. Huffing, he stormed up to the computer and held it in his pale hands. He could take out his frustration on the expensive hardware, but what would that accomplish? It would only leave Bakura wanting more.

No, Bakura had a different idea. Yes... A clever smile crossed Bakura's face. Yes, he knew just what he would do. He quickly pressed the computer on. He waited impatiently for the laptop to boot up. Pop ups asked him if he wanted to update annoyingly and repetitively. Yes, yes, no, no...

Finally, he pulled an internet window up. He smirked, typing in a very simple web address, one that had been filling his mind for the past hour relentlessly.

Formspring.

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**Um, so an interesting beginning, no? Yea, check out their formspring to see for yourself, but there are plenty of spoilers for this story. So, what do you think? Review? Please? It's a really easy button to press...**


	2. Open Wounds: Penalty Game

Author's Note:** Thanks so much for the reviews! They always make me want to write more! See? Updated nice and quickly, at least by my standards. I'll try to update as much as I can, hopefully at least once a week! Review please! It definitely helps!**

**I just had to throw a card game in here. I mean, it's Yu-Gi-Oh. I highly doubt there will be anymore, but it's kind of a rule when writing YGO fanfiction. At least, it would make sense if it were. Also, this chapter is still pretty heavy in tone, but I promise it will not remain so this entire fic.**

**By the way, I've changed my pen name. I wasn't too fond of it in the first place. Sorry for the confusion.**

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Ryou worried his lip, standing outside Bakura's bedroom. He'd been hauled in there all day, and it made the boy uneasy. Was it a hangover? Ryou involuntarily shivered. Bakura was always in a sour mood when he had a hangover, and Ryou had to keep away from him then. But... what if Bakura was really not feeling well?

Ryou stamped his foot. He shouldn't be afraid of Bakura. This was his house. He took care of Bakura, not out of fear but out of care. There was no reason for Bakura to hurt him. Ryou only ever wanted to help... Why couldn't Bakura understand that?

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_The door slammed open, the warm summer wind breaking in. It was a peaceful breeze, much unlike the hurricane of a man that had just emerged from it._

_Ryou stared up from his book to his Yami as the man stomped in. Bakura had small cuts up and down his face, his eyes bloodshot and hair matted._

_"Bakura!" Ryou gasped. "What happened?"_

_Bakura turned his face to glare at Ryou, a stare that chilled the British boy's blood. "Nothing," he muttered. "Don't wake me up in the morning. I'll set my own alarm."_

_Ryou stood and hurried to face his Yami. "But, Bakura... you don't look fine at all. Do you need the first aid kit? What happened?"_

_"I said it was nothing!" Bakura's snap nipped Ryou's heart._

_Ryou was torn. He had noticed Bakura's minor injuries for a while, but today they seemed the worst. Oh, Ryou knew Bakura would never want to talk about it, but if something was continually happening, whatever the situation was, it was only getting worse._

_Ryou needed to know. He **had** to. He raced to stop Bakura in his tracks, blocking his way. "Please, Bakura, tell me what's wrong. I know you'd rather deal with it on you own, but this has been going on for weeks now."_

_"Get out of my way, Ryou..." the threat was low in Bakura's voice._

_"No. Not until you tell me. This is my home, and I won't let you keep coming into it looking like that."_

_Ryou had not been expecting the backhand. He staggered back in shock, clutching the slapped cheek. He looked to Bakura in shock. Bakura kept his face expressionless. "I said to get out of my way, Landlord..."_

_Ryou rubbed the already reddening mark. "No."_

_The fist came next. Ryou felt it land against his side, the breath escaping his lips as a wheeze. "Move **now**," The Yami's voice was sickeningly calm._

_Bakura gasped like a fish, now gripping his stomach. "...N-no..."_

_The next was a hand slamming the boy's head down. He fell onto his hands and knees. He could hear Bakura's heavy breaths. "You're pathetic," the offender spat. "You think you can oppose me? Let me give you an object lesson, Landlord." He reached down to pull the boy back up by the collar. Ryou's eyes held every attempt at confidence, but the fear was plain. "You are my host. You'll always be my host, one way or another. You had better wise up to that fact soon. I am the King of Thieves, Yadonushi. I am and will always be something to be feared and hated. Understand that lesson," Bakura dropped Ryou back to the ground unceremoniously, "or accept death by your own hands."_

_With that, Bakura landed a baleful kick to the boy, and continued on his way to his bedroom. Ryou stood slowly, carefully, clutching his stomach._

_**You are my host. You'll always be my host, one way or another...**_

_Ryou shook his head. That had stung. Bakura had known it would._

_But... Ryou stared down at his hand gripping his stomach. How much of that statement was actually true?_

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You can stare at it all you want, Bakura thought to himself sourly. The answer isn't going to change.

Indeed, Bakura was in a losing staring contest with a web page. How very productive.

Ryou always told the truth, didn't he? He just felt compelled to tell the ancient secrets... the simple secrets. The one in particular haunting the Yami was, of course, the answer Yami Marik had taunted him with. He shouldn't have felt the guilt tossing his stomach around. What stung even deeper of it, though, was the date of the answer. Bakura remembered the night well. He remembered the final blow. The last, unnecessary kick. Bakura growled at the memory. He did not want the guilt, just as he did not want to remember the cause...

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_"And with Dark Necrofear summoned, you Mechanicalchaser is ready to leave this game." Making a simple gesture, Bakura let his favorite card lose for it's attack._

_The Ishtar's living room had been turned into a Duel Monsters battlefield. Both Duel Disks were lively, the lights glowing and sights and sounds creating impossible creatures before their eyes. The two dueling Yamis watched as Dark Necrofear's attack turned on Yami Marik's Mechanicalchaser, turning it to glittering dust before their eyes. Bakura gave a pleased smirk. "That means that you've lost four hundred Life Points, in addition to losing the only card you have on the field. You now only have a measly one thousand, eight hundred Life Points left. Your slipping today, Marik. In just one more turn, this duel is over. I end my turn, and you pay your due."_

_Yami Marik smirked, himself, and placed his card into the discard pile carelessly. He reached for the knife at his side. Bakura watched as the near crazed Yami made another mark on his skin. "four," the blonde remarked quietly. "four cuts for four hundred life points lost." He slit the skin slowly, dramatically. Once the dirty deed was done, Yami Marik's eyes lingered hungrily on the new blood slowly oozing from the tanned skin. He drooled at the sight, even bringing a tongue to the wounds._

_Bakura grimaced. "It pleases you to ruin your own body?"_

_Yami Marik laughed. "You were always possessive of the body you used, even when it was not your own. Me, I call something much more precious and lasting my own." He raised the wounded arm to his mouth and rank another drop of his psychotic ambrosia. "Blood. Pain. Death."_

_"You're a sadist and a masochist."_

_"Ha! And you are not a masochist? You certainly accepted the terms of this game hastily enough."_

_"You insulted my honor. I had no choice but to accept."_

_"So you are," Yami Marik answered his own question. "We just call it by different names. I call it pleasure in pain, you call it honor."_

_"Are you going to make your move," Bakura snapped, "or stand there discussing philosophy?"_

_Yami Marik chuckled. "Do not be so hasty to seal your own doom, Bakura. But as you wish. Draw." He pulled a card from his deck, the cards in a much smaller stack than Bakura's. Yami Marik looked at his card, and a smile crossed his face. "I think," he said, "that you will find my next move a familiar style of your own..." He slammed the card down onto the slot. "I summon Necroface, in attack mode!"_

_"Necroface?" Bakura glared at the Medussa-like being standing before him. It's face was in the like of the broken doll in Dark Necrofear's arms, tentacles surrounding it's head, a tumor of disgust pouring out of a crack where it's eyeball should have been._

_"Yes! And with it summoned, I activate Necroface's special abilities! I take my graveyard and count the number in it's contents..." Yami Marik made a special point of taking his sweet time in counting. "...Twenty seven. Twenty eight." He grinned. "And I give Necroface one hundred attack points for every card, before shuffling them back into my deck, of course."_

_"That means..."_

_"Necroface has four thousand attack points total now! And, before I declare an attack, I activate this spell card," the final card in Yami Marik's hand fell onto the Duel Disk. "Mind Control takes control of one monster for a single battle phase."_

_"And what will that accomplish? You cannot tribute or attack with it."_

_"It leaves you wide open for an attack! And you just so happen to have... four thousand Life Points!"_

_"No!" Bakura watched as the Necroface was called into attack. The broken doll's face wrapped it's sickening tentacles around Bakura. He clenched his teeth as the monster forcibly sucked the Life out of the thief. It wasn't real, the bite came from the careless loss. The Life Points dropped, the holograms faded, and the game was done. Bakura panted, anxiety cutting him hard._

_"Well, Bakura?" Yami Marik let the knife drop to the floor. He kicked the blade towards the sneakered feet. Bakura stared down at it. Yami Marik pointed. "Penalty Game."_

_Bakura slowly reached down, swapping the Duel Disk for the knife. Only forty cuts, minuscule and minor, would pay the penalty. But by twenty gentle marks, Bakura can feel the needles digging into his skin, so small, and so invisibly discomforting the pale, yet to be callused skin. This body was completely unused to any physical abuse, not a single scar ruining the picture of newly born perfection. Bakura felt the sting of the wounds tainting his new property. Still, he showed no expression of hurt. Yami Marik was watching, and Bakura would give the fiend no such satisfaction._

_At thirty five, Yami Marik laughed, "Seems your arms have taken all they can. Oh, I think you may want to choose a different place."_

_It was true, Bakura's arms were covered with the shallow bloodshed. There had to be another place to finish. Yet, Bakura was at a standstill. To remove any clothing, even his shoes, would be to humiliate himself even further, and Bakura refused to give Yami Marik anymore enjoyment at his own expense._

_One, a mark on his flushed, indignant cheeks. Two, a slit above the burning eyes. Three, a small bite on the dry lips. Four, a nip at the hot ears. Five, a bit of a slice at the lively neck._

_Four thousand Life Points lost. Forty parts of the soft flesh broken. Yami Marik stared at the open wounds with a barely contained smile. "You know, Bakura, when I see you like this, I can't help but remember our last duel you lost. And, after watching you willingly taint your new self, I can't help but wonder..." He stared the thief up and down, eyes wilder than they had ever been with this new era of their lives. "...Have I finally tamed the Darkness?"_

_

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Ryou sat down at his desk, head resting on a hand. He had decided not to provoke his Yami's wrath. If he wanted the boy's help, he would ask. Ryou was not going to be a victim anymore. He scanned his email quietly, solemn and deep in thought. Finally, he typed in his newly discovered website.

Ryou had not started the Formspring for no more reason than he had needed an outlet. He meant no spite, rarely did such a feeling as that ever come to him. He ran a hand through his soft, white hair. He was simply tired. He needed somewhere to be careless. He was so tired of always keeping secrets. All he wanted was a place to not hold something back. His desire came in the form of a simple internet site. A place just to answer questions honestly for _once _and not be afraid of doing so. It had helped, strangers actually cared and encouraged him. He knew he was being weak and pathetic. But what else could he do?

Ryou typed in his username, TheGoodBakura, and looked over at his inbox.

Three new questions. One asked about his crush. Ryou blushed. He knew he should never have shared even a hint of _that_ secret. Narrowly avoiding any real answer, he moved onto the second. This one asked why he never stood up to his Yami. Ryou sighed. He wasn't ready. He just wasn't ready yet. He answered that as simply as he could. Finally, Ryou's eyes met the final question.

Ryou's jaw dropped. It had to be some kind of prank.

But here the final message was, listed in his inbox.

**Hello, Ryou...**

Asked by, TheEvilBakura.


	3. Bite My Tongue: Bunny Ears

Author's Note:** So about here is where things start to set into a lighter tone, something I am glad of. If you really look at their formsprings, emotions tend to fluctuate up and down. I think Yami Bakura may have mood swing problems... Thanks for the reviews last time around! So long as I get feedback, I will keep pumping these out! Speaking of, sorry for the late update, I had a few problems... That and, have you SEEN how much is going on on their formsprings? I almost want to yell at them, "slow down! I can't even hope to keep up!" Hehe, but I'll deal. Also, I must take a few liberties, simply to keep the plot in a good pace. Not all of the questions and answers will be communicated via Formspring in this fic, simply because it would get rather dull if every conversation went, "And he typed..."**

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Bakura leaned back, content with himself, a smirk crossing his face. About this time, Ryou would stare slack jawed, perhaps even to the point of a fly making it's untimely way into his mouth. Ryou would then check his own pulse, just to be sure. And then he would either cry out for Bakura, or actually reply to the greeting online. If it was the latter, Ryou would more likely than not, say something along the lines of, "Bakura? What are you doing on this site?" Or, "What are you doing using the computer! I thought you hated it!"

A bright, cheery sound alerted Bakura of a new email. Leaning forward, the message read in large, bold letters, **"TheGoodBakura responed to your question on Formspring. To view..."**

Bakura rolled his eyes and impatiently clicked the link. Ryou's reply laid out before him.

**"Bakura! Since when do you own a formspring?"**

Meh, Bakura was close. He shrugged and typed in his own answer. **"Since I got bored. I'm hungry, by the way. Where's the frozen steak you promised?"**

Within minutes, Ryou's answer fell onto the page. **"It's in the freezer above the ice tray (yes, I'll go get it...) Are you sure you don't want it cooked?"**

**"That was my only polite way of requesting that you to cook it, Ryou. And just what are you telling these beings about me?"**

**"Oh yes, of course. And please don't be embarrassed! I'm really sorry Bakura. I'll go now."**

Bakura would have smiled at this response. After all, he had just gotten his former host to get up and prepare his dinner, and Bakura had not even had to speak the boy's name aloud. It was a lovely new trick for laziness. However, his pleasure slipped away with annoyance. Why did his host _always_ have to insist on apologize to him? It was pathetic, to say the very least. Like his host was begging for mercy. Bakura did not think of the implications of that reaction. He leaned back again, shutting his eyes, awaiting his steak patiently.

Bakura could hear Ryou's shuffling downstairs. Soon the smell of sizzling steak met his nose, filling his senses. Bakura set into a moment of bliss, enjoying the sweet smell of the spices and meat.

Another email alert awoke him from his happy stupor. **"TheGoodBakura responded to your question..."**

Bakura reread his statement.** "I am not embarrassed. I am annoyed and hungry."**

**"That wasn't very nice,"** Ryou replied.** "And your steak is done. What kind of sauce would you like with it?"**

Bakura smirked and wrote a half-hearted response before hopping off of the bed and down the stairs.

The Yami drooled at the sight of the steak as Ryou set it onto the table. He barely waited for the boy's hand to let go before he dug into the food. He tore the beef, Ryou staring nervously as Bakura's awful table manners failed to disappoint. After a few very loud bites, Bakura stared at Ryou, the sauce running down the Thief's chin. "What is wrong with you?" he snapped. "I doubt you find my eating _that_ interesting."

Ryou faltered. "I'm _really_ sorry, Bakura. I didn't mean to make everything so public. I didn't even think you would find out about it... You never go on the computer."

Bakura snorted. "So since you believed I would never discover it, you find it acceptable?"

"No! No, I didn't mean that at all. I just... I needed something to just... vent to! Besides, people are interested in us, you know that." Ryou spoke with sudden confidence, even gesturing loudly with his hands. "And—"

Bakura grabbed a wrist swiftly. Ryou stopped in his tracks. The Thief smiled at the boy a suddenly dangerous smile. "Do you fear me, Landlord? Do I frighten you?"

Ryou stared down at the Thief King, a sudden coldness overcoming him with the hand gripping him so tightly. "I..." Ryou started. Bakura chuckled lowly. The softer brown eyes set into sudden determination. Ryou tried to wrench his wrist free, but failing, he spoke, nevertheless. "No, I don't. You see, Bakura, I've recently discovered that there is no reason to fear you. Even if you beat me, even if you push me down, I'll always get back up. That was the way it was when we shared my body, and it's the same now that we share a home. I may be your host, but I am not your toy."

"Why don't you just kick me out, then? It would solve many problems for you."

Ryou shook his head in desperation. "Don't you get it, Bakura? I want you here. I don't know if it's right or not, but I know that I don't want you to leave. You're my Yami, I feel incomplete without you. When you were gone, and I was free, it was the happiest moment of my life. But the feeling passed, and I missed you. You were responsible for so many of the unhappy things in my life, yes, but sometimes you weren't so bad. Sometimes you talked to me, and I didn't feel quite so alone. And now..." Ryou smiled at the thief. "...Now something's different about you. I see hope in you, Yami, and I don't want to give up on it yet."

Bakura stared, for a moment, speechless. Finally, he grunted and released the wrist, returning to his steak. Ryou smiled wider. Bakura was not a lost cause, he refused to believe it.

"At any rate," Ryou said cheerfully, "I'm glad you've got a Formspring. I always felt guilty about answering questions about you... like I would say something inaccurate. But now that you have one, people can ask you directly. It's a huge relief."

There was a pause in the carnivorous chew. "Come again?"

"Formspring, Bakura. People ask you questions, you answer them. What were you thinking when you made yours?"

"That I could give you a good scare..."

Ryou scowled. "Well, you've made it now. Please, Bakura? People really want to ask you questions. Just try it for a little while, okay?"

The Thief King suddenly stood, grumbling as he stormed up the stairs. Ryou listened to the stomps as he stared at the only partially mutilated steak. In a moment, Bakura returned with the laptop clutched in his greasy hands.

"If it will make you stop pestering me about it," Bakura said, "I will answer one tonight."

"Thank you, Bakura! I'm sure you'll like it once you get used to it."

The Thief King waved him off as he typed the site in. His page pulled up, a mirror to Ryou's own. The background was layered with the _Thief's _favorite card, Dark Necrofear.

One new question. Bakura impatiently fiddled with his fingers as he waited for it to load.

The question appeared.

Bakura glared at it.

"Oh, Ra!" a stream of Egyptian obscenities escaped the Yami's lips.

"What's wrong?" Ryou hurried to the laptop, alarmed. He gaped at the screen, forcing the guffaw rising in his throat back down as he read...

**"Is it true that you have 'bunny ears' on top of your head?"**


	4. Circles We Run: Trust

Author's Note:** So sorry for the late update (again). Busy busy. Thanks to my beta, sarcasticrocker86. You always seem to be giving me a hand, don't you? Alright, let's get going then. Ooooh wait! Remember what I said about the romance? Well... I think you can scrap everything I said now...**

**

* * *

**

_The White Mage stared at his dark foe towering over him. At his side, his companions had fallen; a bad move had led to bad consequences. Only a few minuscule health points remained with his friends, their movements paralyzed. The enemy let out a bellow of a laugh._

_"You've made a sloppy move, and now your friends are paying for it!" Zorc stared down at the little Mage, the sinister claws ready to ensnare his friends. "So, Mage, what will it be? Protect your companions, and follow them to exhaustion, or chance an attack on me?"_

_Zorc was the game master, the ruler of the realm. To defeat him was near impossilble. What could the lone White Mage do?_

_"It's your move," Zorc said._

_The White Mage's jaw set. He raised his hands high, wand pointed toward sky. He chanted deep and mysterious words, ready to activate his spell—_

_

* * *

_

The roar of the motorcycle engine snapped the two white haired males from their deep game. As though waking from an intense dream, Ryou blinked, his White Mage piece in hand. Bakura, on the opposite side, shook his own head groggily at the game computer.

Ryou stared at the Monster World board in a confused state. "Yami," he asked gingerly, "how long have we been playing?"

"Eh..." Bakura typed something quickly. "Three hours, apparently."

"Bakura! Then that must be Marik! I can't believe we forgot!" Ryou lept up and ran for the door.

The Thief King reflected on the board before calling, "You have been getting better, Landlord." He regarded the the game thoughtfully. "Perhaps if you had not been so busy texting on your cellular phone, you would have had _me_ on the ropes, rather than the other way around."

But Ryou was not listening. Instead, he focused his attention on the knock at the front door. Hurriedly, he pulled it open, revealing the Egyptian blonde waiting for him.

"Hey, Marik!" Ryou's face was bright.

"Ready to go?" Marik was smiling back.

"Sure! Let me just..." Ryou swiftly turned to grab his things. He yelped in surprise when he nearly crashed into his Yami's body. Bakura, however, stood unflinching, arms crossed as he stared down at the boy.

"So, who was it?" Bakura's lips curved in amusement.

"Who was what?"

"Who were you just texting so obsolescently? I doubt it was Marik, since you quite obviously forgot about him."

"I didn't forget him!" Ryou fave a fleeting glance back at the blonde.

Bakura chuckled. "So you don't want to tell me? Very well. Although I believe I can take a guess..."

"Bakura!" Ryou pushed passed him. "I've got to go! It'll get dark soon!"

The Thief King smiled a clever smile and said faintly, "As you wish."

Marik watched Ryou run off, turning his attention toward the Yami. He stared, Bakura stared back. There was a moment of silence, a time of reflection of who they had once been, and who they were now. Two men, once uneasy allies, bonded in spirit, now separated, living new lives, and moving on. Forgetting the past, and moving forward.

It was the closest thing to a bond they had.

Finally, the shoulders slacked, and bodies relaxed. Bakura smirked, his hair covering an eye, the picture of mischief. Marik raised an eyebrow. "It isn't polite to steal," he said.

"I have no idea what you speak of." Bakura allowed himself to stretch casually before revealing the cell phone in his hands. He began to play with the buttons.

"I know about the other night."

The white haired man made no sign of emotion.

"Do you think that teasing him and violating his trust for something so trivial will take away the hurt you've given him?"

Bakura stopped and glared. "Do you give your own Yami these lectures, or is simply me?"

There was a deep sigh. "Only the once."

* * *

_It was a night that should have been raining. The house was filled with a cold feeling, every noise a threat. Marik didn't understand this uneasiness. His stomach turned as he approached the rapping door. It creaked open with a slightly trembling hand as Marik peered into the darkness, eyes meeting the dark __silhouette. The hair was wild, the eyes bloodshot, insanity incarnate before him._

_An amused smile greeted, "Hello, Marik."_

_"Marik!" Marik felt his heart race, fear hit him like being drenched in cold water._

_The two halves stared, Yami Marik keeping the sinister smirk on his face. Marik shivered at the stare, thousands of horrified questions in his mind._

_"What do you think you're doing here?"_

_Yami Marik chuckled. "I missed you, too. And where are my sister and brother?" Yami Marik leaned against the door coolly, arms crossed. There was something threatening in his appearance..._

_"You stay away from them!" Marik stood tall against his darker self. "You nearly killed them both. I don't know the how's or the why's that brought you here, but you are leaving. Now."_

_Yami Marik shrugged, looking uncaring. "Fine, then. But you seem to have forgotten: I** am **you. I am what you try to sweep under the rug and say is not there. I have told you before, and you refuse to listen. I am Marik. I am simply the part of you you hate. I have the power and strength to do what you wish in your darkest thoughts. But fine, if you wish to deny your responsibility, I can go out into the world and make Marik Ishtar a true name to never be forgotten..."_

_Marik winced. He knew his dark side was very capable of all that he said. _

_"So," Yami Marik continued, "Are you going to take responsibilities for your creation, or are you going to hide behind Odion again?"_

_Marik stopped. He stared at his Yami... at himself. "A-alright, Marik. You're right. But I am in charge of you. Do you understand? You can't do whatever I say you can't. I won't allow it, and I won't take no for an answer."_

_"Excellent choice, Marik..." Yami Marik stood up straight, and stepped towards the boy. He did not get far, however, before his expression changed to a shuddered look, and he collapsed in Marik's stunned arms._

_A bluff! Marik dropped the now unconscious body furiously onto the floor. How could he have fallen for his tricks again! Marik glared at his dark side, eyes burning. He would give his Yami a good wake up call later. No one made Marik Ishtar a fool, least of all himself._

_Marik suddenly paused. His Yami had his own body. Did that mean...?_

_Gingerly, Marik bent over Yami Marik's body, tugging the dark shirt up, revealing the tanned back._

_Nothing._

_Not a mark. The body was tainted with no scars._

_Marik, for feelings he wished he didn't feel, shivered._

_The deepest, darkest personality of his nature had been reborn. And he was even purer than himself._

_

* * *

_

"But we aren't discussing my Yami. We're discussing you."

"No," Bakura shook his head at Marik. "We are not."

Marik grit his teeth. "You're acting like a child. Ryou took you in! Are you going to spit on his trust?"

"Would you be silent for a _moment_? I have almost found what I am looking for."

"You hurt him. You bruise him. You confuse him. And now you're stealing his privacy. Thief, this is your last refuge. You've decimated everything in Ryou. Everything, except his privacy."

Bakura growled. "You are starting to annoy me. Let me alone."

"He respects yours. You know how public you are now. The world knows all of your secrets. But he keeps away from them. He knows you want that to be respected." Marik stepped forward. "Are you going to even attempt to reciprocate that respect? Or are you always going to be the parasite?"

The Yami stared down at the phone. The text messages inbox was right there. All it took was a simple press of the button...

"...Damn you," Bakura hissed as he tossed the phone at the tanned boy. "You are worse than your Yami."

Marik caught the phone with ease. "You made the right choice, Bakura."

"Okay!" as if on cue, Ryou called to Marik as he returned from getting ready. "I am so sorry I took so long!" Ryou paused at the sight of the two. "You guys get along?"

"Yeah," Marik replied with a grin. "And you dropped your phone in your hurry."

"I did?" Ryou cocked his head. "That's funny, I had thought I had put it safely in my pocket..."

"It doesn't matter." Marik opened the door wider. "Come on, let's go."

"And just where are you two off to?" Bakura asked sulkily.

Ryou beamed. "Marik's going to try to teach me how to ride his motorcycle."

Bakura stifled a laugh. He raised an eyebrow at Marik. "Try to return him in one piece, then."

"He'll be fine," Marik returned.

"Bye, Bakura!" Ryou followed Marik out.

Bakura did not reply as the door shut tightly behind him, leaving him alone in the house.

* * *

**AN: I should have another update done very soon! I just didn't want this chapter to hit Proust kind of length! Don't forget to review!**


	5. Forward Motion: Breakdowns

The Thief King grumbled in a dissatisfied manner as he scoured the fridge for some sort of bottled water. He was drenched in sweat, the weights lay in a heap in the garage. Not strong enough yet. He wanted this form to at least be _comparable _to his Egyptian one, if he were to stick with it for the rest of his life. And yet, no matter how long he worked out, how hard he pushed himself, he always seemed to remain the same. He sighed, letting his hair loose. No use at all.

"Water water water..." Bakura spoke to himself as he scanned the shelves. Talking to himself was a habit, a product of three thousand years of near solitude. Anyone that felt the need bother him about this habit could go jump off of a cliff, for all he cared.

Retrieving the item he desired, Bakura gulped down the liquid, stepping toward the window. Ryou had not returned yet. He could not help a smirk at the idea that the boy would be attempting something like _motorbiking. _Marik had better bring him back in one piece, the Thief thought. He wanted another steak tonight.

He stopped the peaking when a girl on the streets noticed and waved happily. Bakura groaned. Fangirls. Freaking _fangirls_.

It was bad enough every mortal being on the planet had access to his life secrets with a simple type on the computer or click of the remote. Now they had to harass him and the others constantly. Yugi understood fame, but Bakura was not someone that got his kicks from waving and smiling at his _adoring_ fans.

More or less, though, they left him alone. The Yu-Gi-Oh! franchise was considered a work of fiction. Therefore, most denied his existance. Still though, the simple idea that ancient secrets were accessible to any and all perturbed him in every manner possible.

Damn that Takahashi.

Bakura left the window, cursing his existance and his fangirls.

* * *

"Alright, Ryou," Marik smiled as the white haired boy hopped onto the motorcycle, "you just have to relax and focus on what you're doing. The more nervous you are, the harder it's going to be for you."

Ryou nodded at the seat. "Thanks, Marik." He glanced at the handle breaks absent-mindedly.

"You've been quiet the entire day. What's up?" Marik sat himself down behind Ryou, looking at him with sudden concern.

Ryou smiled. "Nothing. Just my Yami."

"Has he hurt you again since we talked last?"

Ryou's eyes widened. "What? No, not at all! In fact... that's what's concerning me."

Marik stared blankly. Ryou sighed. "I thought Bakura was going to kill me for starting a Formspring without telling him. I mean, really kill me. I told them what he said to me about his village! I feel horrid for it, and now that he's seen me just spilling his secrets he told me privately, I don't know. I thought he was... going to do something really bad. But he didn't. Instead, he just made one, himself."

The Egyptian boy wrapped an arm around Ryou's neck in a friendly way. "You know him hurting you isn't your fault, right?"

"But I still should understand him better."

"Ryou, you know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here."

"No!" Ryou pushed Marik away, eyes suddenly firing. "The last time I just spilled everything, I said such terrible things!" He placed a hand to his eye in memory.

"That wasn't your fault, either, Ryou. Trust me, would I lie to you?"

* * *

_Marik Ishtar was in a foul mood. As if he didn't have enough to worry about with starting at this new school in Domino, now his Yami was causing problems for Bakura. And problems for Bakura meant problems for Ryou. And Marik hated the problems Ryou had to deal with._

_A harsh cycle._

_So Marik sat, ignoring the argument ensuing between Ishizu and his other half in the other room, a hand resting on his forehead, eyes shut in annoyance. He should just call it a night and go to bed. He was sure Yami Marik would still be as unbearable in the morning as he was now._

_There was a knock at the door. A pounding, really, that shook Marik to awareness. Hurridly, he hurried to the door, praying that it was not someone **else** with a complaint over his dark side._

_But alas, no angry citizen was at his door._

_A sobbing Ryou was there instead._

_"Ryou?" Marik stared in shock at the boy. His tears seemed uncontrollable, his hands shaking, his eye... red and turning a sickening shade of purple._

_"Marik!" Ryou cried. "I can't go home, Marik! He locked me out, and I can't go home!"_

_"What happened!" Marik's outrage was plain._

_"I don't know, I don't know! Marik, I can't go home!"_

_Marik, slightly panicked at the boy's display, called, "Odion! Get Other Me out of the house for a bit." To Ryou, he grabbed his shoulders gently and pulled him inside._

_On any other day, Ryou would have protested and said he did not want to burden him or bother the Yami, but today he made no arguments. This single lack of action told Marik that this was serious._

_Marik caught a glimpse of Odion, who nodded and hurried to pry Yami Marik away from the "lively debate."_

_"Ryou," Marik sat the crying boy and himself down. "What happened?"_

_"He hit me again, and then locked me out of the house! He always has to hit me, doesn't he? I didn't do anything, Marik! He won't ever tell me what I do, until I do it, and then..." Ryou's eyes burned, wiping a tear away furiously. "I wish Father had never given me that bloody Ring! That monster has been hurting me for years and he just won't stop! Was I drunk or something? Why the bloody hell did I let him back into my life? I want him out, Marik! He just keeps taking from me and taking from me! I can't even sleep at night without worrying if he's going to... I hate this! I hate **him**! I **hate **him!"_

_Marik watched the display in horror. Ryou never said such things, not since they have gotten to know each other._

_How much was Bakura willing to take from this boy?_

* * *

"It doesn't matter if it was or wasn't! I said things that I never should have said!"

"You didn't mean it, Ryou."

"I... I don't want to talk about this anymore..." Ryou revved up the engine of the bike. "Come on, I want to try this already."

Marik studied his friend for a moment. "Okay, Ryou. Just remember to... relax, okay?"

"Yes, Marik, I got it," Ryou smiled half-heartedly. "Now get off, please."

Marik sighed deeply and stood, backing onto the curb. "Let's see what you got."

* * *

Bakura rolled his eyes as he pulled out his laptop. After his promise to Ryou, he visited the Formspring site every morning or so to answer some inane question. He had already been asked what his favorite color was. That was inevitable.

He found the entire thing significantly dull, but he at least was able to clear up some inconsistances thought up by the mortals. No, he was not in love with Ryou. No, he did not enjoy being "inside" him. And no, he did not have or want a girlfriend/boyfriend.

Tch. Romance.

Bakura huffed and glanced at Ryou's page. One question popped up. **"I feel very different asking you questions now that Bakura's watching. He won't dismember us, will he?"**

Bakura smirked in amusment and pleasure. Good. He was causing problems. He liked that. Let Ryou's little fangirls sweat a bit. Might make them think twice about asking some worthless or extremely sensitive questions. Hmph.

Bakura was typing in an answer to what his favorite type of music was **("the screams of the damned don't count")** when a hurried pounding came from the door. Bakura stood, hearing winces and coaxing. Ryou stood by Marik, arms scraped and bloodied.

Bakura chuckled at the sight. "Doesn't this bring back memories." An injured Ryou and a helping Marik helping his staggering form.

"Not now, Bakura," Marik snapped impatiently. "We need to clean off the scrapes."

Bakura shrugged. "Be my guest, Ryou." He grabbed the boy by the shoulders and pulled him inside, allowing him to lean against the Yami instead.

"Thank you, Marik. I can take it from here." Bakura flashed a smile before slamming the door shut on the Egyptian boy.

"Let me guess," Bakura said complacently as he helped Ryou to the bathroom, "you fell."

"Y-yes..." Ryou turned his head away, the shame plain on his face. "I-I can take care of this, Yami. No need for you to help."

"Right," Bakura rolled his eyes. "You seem to have this completely under control. Do not pretend I am completely oblivious to your body and it's limits. I happened to share it with you for over a decade."

Ryou flushed, but protested no more.

Bakura helped clean the wounds deliberately and quickly, his eyes set in determination.

"Why are you helping me?" Ryou finally demanded.

Bakura did not glance up. "You are my Landlord, of course. It is my duty to watch after you."

"Watch over me..." Ryou fell silent. Bakura glanced at him for a moment before letting his eyes fall back onto cleaning the wound. He could see his former host's point. Bah, who cared? He was taking care of him now, wasn't he?

After some moments of silence, Ryou said softly, "I have something to tell you."

"Oh?" Bakura began dressing the wounds.

"Er, yes, though I doubt you'll care. I just... I'm going to announce it on Formspring, and I thought you should know, anyway. Everyone at school does."

"I'm all ears."

"Um... Well, you remember Miho Nosaka..."

"Blue hair? Liked to speak in the third person?"

"Er, yes. Well, she recently moved back to Domino. We've been talking for a while... She was actually the one I was texting today during our game..."

Bakura stopped what he was doing. "...Yes?"

"She's liked me since we came to Domino, of course. And I told her I liked her recently. We've been going out for about two weeks, Bakura. I'm dating Miho."

Bakura looked at his former host for a moment, shrugged, and began dressing the wounds again.

"Bakura?"

"What? You are dating Miho. That is fine with me. It could do you some good."

Ryou blinked. "R-really?"

"I suppose..." the Thief finished with the arms. "Feel better?"

Ryou ran a hand through one of his arms. "Much, actually."

"Fine, then." Bakura stood to leave.

"Yami?"

He paused, but did not turn. "Yes, Landlord?"

"Thank you for your help."

"Er, you are welcome, I suppose..." Bakura turned for a moment to look at the boy. He had been thanked. He was never thanked.

Suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of discomfort, Bakura dashed out of the room.

* * *

**A/N: It's been a while, hasn't it? Do you know why? a) I've been busy, which isn't eally an excuse, but it's been impeding me, anyway b) I went on one night and suddenly realized what a huge task I have before me and almost headed for the hills. Don't worry, I'm here now c) I can't get the word-for-word messages anymore b/c the scrolling crashes my computer about two thousand answers down and d) I can't look at them anyway, because their accounts have been disabled. 0_0 Hopefully they'll be back soon, but my problems remain. Still, I hope to have an update for you soon.**

**Thanks for the reviews last time around and don't forget to review this time! Thanks~**


	6. And You Thought They Wouldn't Find Out

**Short, but fast. I decided some fun was necessary, and this was the best place to put it. I know I've always wondered what exactly happened when this even took place. Let's see if I'm psychic.**

* * *

"Landlord, I am going out."

Ryou called from the computer, keeping his eyes glued, "To the bar?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"With Yami Marik."

"Have... fun."

Bakura paused as he passed the back of Ryou's head. "You're not still mad about this morning, are you?"

He could hear Ryou's eye roll. "No, Yami, I am not mad about this morning. I am sorry for overreacting."

* * *

_Bakura's face held a mixture of annoyance and confusion. Where had that bloody toothbrush gone **now**? How could it possibly be missing? He used it **here**, and nowhere else. How could it possibly have disappeared?_

_The Thief King had looked everywhere: under the sink, in the cupboard, on the floor... Yet it was still nowhere to be found._

_Bakura huffed loudly and dramatically as he raised himself to look in the mirror. Bloody toothbrush. Bloody bathroom. Bloody clean-freak society! His annoyed eyes passed over the sink, suddenly stopping him in his tracks. _

_Ryou's toothbrush._

_Bakura sucked his breath in in careful thought. This had the definite potential of solving his problem. But it **also** had the potential of backfiring very detrimentally. He pondered for a brief moment before finally shrugging. What did he care? He could easily fix anything questionable about this act he was about to perform._

_He grabbed the toothbrush, running it under heavy soap and water. He scrubbed until a few bristles began coming loose. After such, he glanced again, and repeated the act, just to be safe._

_Finally, after twenty minutes of careful scrubbing, Bakura filled the brush with toothpaste and placed it in his mouth. He held back his wince as he brushed, one eye shut in his grimace. He worked slowly, diligently, but his mind was screaming in agony at this very sensitive course of action._

_It was the worst time possibly for his former host to pass by the bathroom to tell him breakfast was ready. It took less than a moment for the boy to look at Bakura, then at his toothbrush, and then back at his Yami again._

_There was a moment of deep, horrid silence._

_And then the explosion._

_"**YAMI!**" Ryou gaped loudly. "**What are you doing with my toothbrush!**"_

_Bakura tried to speak to explain, but, the paste still filled in his mouth, it came more as a spit of indistinct noises._

_"What were you thinking!" Ryou screamed as Bakura rinsed his mouth out frantically. "That's **my** toothbrush!_

_"I washed it!" Bakura held his hands up in defense. _

_"Ew ew ew! Bakura! That's my toothbrush, and now it's got all of your germs all over it! That's disgusting!"_

_"I shared the same body with you, the same body **parts**, but not a **toothbrush**?"_

_ Ryou looked even more disgusted. "Oh! Bakura! Thank you for that reminder!" Ryou face palmed in horror._

_"Look here, I scrubbed this thing mercilessly! It is **fine**! Clean! All right?"_

_"Ugh! You can keep it, Bakura. I'll just go buy another one, myself." Ryou left the room, "bleh-ing" the whole way._

* * *

"Well, you seem angry."

"I'm just watching something, okay? I'm not mad at all over the stupid toothbrush. Have fun with Marik."

Bakura cocked his head, suddenly curious. He looked onto the screen, noticing the video playing for the first time.

"Oh, no, Landlord," Bakura groaned. "You aren't watching _Yu-Gi-Oh_," he spat the name, "are you?"

"Um, not exactly... Look, Bakura, just go and have fun, okay?"

"Why the sudden need to get rid of..." Bakura trailed off as he watched Téa Gardner run past Ryou. Oh, yes, he remembered this day. When Marik had used that American to steal Yugi's Puzzle.

But instead of hearing the dialog the Thief remembered, he heard Ryou's voice call to Téa, "Yo, Téa! How's it hanging, dude?"

Téa turned back swiftly. "What the hell did you just say to me?"

"I'm trying to sound more American," Ryou muttered quietly, "so that people won't pick on me as much."

"Well, stop it! You sound like you're in the 1970's!"

"Oh, baby," Ryou persisted, "cut me some slack! Let's hang out together! It'll be totally cool!"

Téa took off running. "Somebody help me! Bakura's gone insane!"

Outside of the video, the Thief King burst out into uncontrollable laughter. "Oh! Oh, Ra! That's... that's hilarious! What is this?"

Before Ryou, already red with embarrassment, had a chance to answer, another voice, gruffer and stronger, piped up on the video, halting Bakura's laughter like a punch in the gut.

"Now that she's out of the way," Yami Bakura's voice cried, "I can concentrate on finding gay people!"

The true Bakura gaped in horror. "What?"

But the screen Bakura continued on, "Come on, little Gay-dar," he cried to his Ring. "Work your magic!"

Ryou paused the video in sudden terror.

Just as earlier that day, the roles now reversed, there was a moment of heinous quiet.

And Bakura's cranium blew.

"_WHAT?_" Bakura's outrage stretched to a high pitched yell. "What is this!"

Ryou's eyes widened. "Uh... Um... It's called Yu-Gi-Oh: The Abridged Series."

"This is a _series_!"

"...Yes."

"How many are there?"

"Quite a few, Bakura."

"Move!"

Ryou narrowly dodged the shove as his Yami sat onto the computer. The former host stared, unsure of what to do. "Y-you know, Bakura, I really don't think you should watch it..."

"Oh, I am watching it!" Eyes flared at the boy.

"I... think _I'm_ the one that's going out now..." Ryou carefully grabbed the trench coat Bakura had been holding, pulling it on slowly. "I'll be sure to tell Yami Marik about your... predicament."

Bakura waved a furious hand away. Ryou hurried out the door.

...

The next morning, upon discovering Bakura had spent all night watching the whole series, Ryou had to use the entire day to keep his Yami from flying to England to gruesomely murder a certain British man.


	7. Step to Me: Protective

**WARNING: In order to be accurate but still professional, I had to include offensive language in this chapter. On Formspring the word was bleeped out in a way, but I don't like doing that in my work. It looks ridiculous. Sorry for anyone who might be offended.**

* * *

Ryou had a good idea at the moment that getting home was the best option.

The bullies were stalking at a far enough, but threatening distance behind, calling his name. Or, rather, some insulting idea of his name.

"Hey, Fuckura!" they called. "Where're you going?"

Home, you idiots! Ryou wanted to call back. He stopped himself just short and sighed as he trudged through. It was becoming an increasingly paining problem, these bullies. It was not just Ryou, either, but Yugi and Joey and all of his friends. Still, they took a liking to Ryou the most. It wasn't like he _tried_ to keep his natural British accent in his pronunciation when he was speaking Japanese, it simply happened. And when it did, the bullies were more than happy to terrorize him for it.

So Ryou tried to endure the what was, for now, simply an inconvenience. After all, he had a three thousand year old Spirit waiting for him at home, too.

_That _was the real problem. And hiding the fact from his friends was getting harder and harder. "I fell down the stairs," "I tripped on the way to school," "I cut myself picking up some glass after I broke something." He was always clumsy, but he wondered how long he could keep these excuses up.

Still, Bakura hadn't been too cruel to him lately. That was strange, he thought, and he wasn't sure it was good or bad.

"Fuckura!" the bullies called from behind again. "Come here and talk to us in that frilly little accent of yours again!"

"How old are you people..." Ryou muttered under his breath. He was only a few blocks from home. He could make it that far.

If the footsteps from behind would only slow down a bit.

Ryou's eyes widened, realizing they wanted to chase him down now. Groaning loudly, he broke into a run, gripping his briefcase tightly. They were following closely behind as Ryou raced through a home's yard in shortcut, cutting through the bushes.

He didn't notice his Yami walking the same direction until they collided violently and fell to the floor.

Ryou scarcely understood what had happened until realizing he was on his back with Bakura gripping his collar and snarling. Ryou's eyes widened. "H-hi, Bakura. What are, um, you doing out here?"

Bakura blinked, as though in realization, and released his grip on the boy. "I'm not allowed out of the house for air every once in a while? Now, what do you think you are doing?" the harsher of the two hissed.

Before the former host could open his mouth, _they_ called for him again from outside the bushes. "Who is that?" the Thief King demanded.

"Um... It's a long story..."

"Fuckura! Get out here!"

Bakura's eyes flared. "_What_ did he say?"

"Yami, they're just bullies..." Ryou started to get up.

Bakura pushed him back down. "You. Stay right here."

Ryou opened his mouth to protest, but realizing he feared his body snatcher more than anything else, he shut it immediately.

Bakura stepped out of the bushes slowly to find a group of three boys staring back at him. "Is there a reason you continue to follow me?" Bakura did not mask his gruff voice.

"I dunno, Limey. What if you're just going in the direction you're going?"

"Ya see he changed his clothes?" one whispered off-handedly to another.

"Ah..." Bakura mocked understanding. "Well, then. I suggest you go another direction."

"Who are you ordering around, Fuckura?" one of the teenagers stepped forward.

"I think that's obvious enough, unless we can add dense to foolishly brave among your flaws."

"That does it!" the bully charged forward, fist waving in the air.

The Thief King didn't bat an eye. In one swift movement of motion, he turned to his side to watch the punch pass him by harmlessly. As the bully began to stumble at the lack of impact, Bakura reached to grab the arm and twist it to where he stood, keeping the bully at his mercy, lest he break his arm.

"My accent bother you?" he asked the group. "Well, get over it. I don't change who I am for the sake of the likes of you." He shoved the bully back to the group, feeling sudden Deja Vu at the scene, reminding him of the Bonz incident of Battle City. "So the next time, I suggest you think twice before trying that stunt again, or you will be _losing_ that arm of yours."

With that, Bakura disappeared back into the bushes.

Ryou gaped up at him. "Are they... gone?"

Bakura reached down and pulled his former host up swiftly, slamming him against a tree. "Don't you _dare_ let anyone speak to you that way, Landlord, do you hear me? You treat yourself with more respect. You are not some piece of property to be used and..." Bakura suddenly stopped, trailing off. He released his hold on the boy again, smoothing down the collar blankly.

"...Yami? Are you oka-"

"Bakura!" a call broke through from afar.

Ryou jumped. "That sounds like Tristan."

Bakura grunted. "I will see you at home." With that, the Thief King raced off.

Ryou didn't catch the hastiness of his Yami's movements, as though he were running away from something that frightened him.

Something that terrified him.


End file.
